We interrupt this program...

Had to add this; it's a reflection of me,
Gerald, Carri and Mom in the
Vietnam Memorial

Coming from the family I did, I can't let the 4th of July go by without honoring the events behind the holiday. My Dad was a Marine. He died in 1991, retired, but he never stopped being a Marine and was always proud to be an American. He was as loyal to this country as they come and he and Mom raised us kids to love this country. Mom matched Dad's Patriotism with a force of her own. I'm so grateful to them.

A few years ago Mom, my sister and her family (Carri, Gerald, Sean and Keli), and I went back east on a two-week excursion. We started in upstate New York and followed the east coast down, stopping in Boston and Philadelphia on our way to Washington D.C. In Boston, we walked Freedom Trail, which is, literally, a trail through Boston marked by a red brick path. We walked the deck and underbelly of the USS Constitution, the oldest commissioned warship afloat in the world. The trail led us to Paul Revere's house and the Old North Church where Robert Newman signaled with lanterns when the British were coming. We traversed Feneuil Hall, perhaps the oldest Mall in the world having been a marketplace in Boston since 1742. And we stood on the sloped mound of Bunker Hill, the site of the first major battle fought in the Revolutionary War in 1775. A battle we lost but what it stirred would become known as the American spirit which eventually won the war and our freedom.

Mom outside Independence Hall

In Philadelphia, we waited in line to enter Independence Hall. In the movie "National Treasure", Nicholas Cage's character unrolls the declaration in the very room where it had been signed hundreds of years earlier and he kind of stops in wonder. I understood that moment. Not that I was unrolling the Declaration when I was in Independence Hall, but I stopped in wonder and awe to be in that room where those men - none of them perfect, all of them with flaws galore - still believed in what they were doing and risked their lives to sign a piece of paper we would eventually respect as a National Treasure.

Even now, years later, recalling the memories of our trip brings tears to my eyes, but I was, quite frankly, overwhelmed with the feel of it all "in the moment." Don't call the padded room people on me, but at times during our trek along Freedom Trail and standing Independence Hall, I swear I could feel the yearning for freedom of those early Americans in every brick, every stone, every bit of mortar. I'm so grateful to those wonderful people who followed the urge to fight for something they believed in, no matter the cost.

A prophet in the Book of Mormon said, “… whatsoever nation shall possess [this land] shall be free from bondage, and from captivity, and from all other nations under heaven, if they will but serve the God of the land, who is Jesus Christ...” (Ether 2:10, 12.)


I am so grateful to my ancestors who chose to come to America seeking a better life for their families. I am grateful for those who fought the war that won this country's freedom. I am grateful for the men, women and their families who still fight - either physically or emotionally, here or abroad - to keep that freedom alive.

Happy Birthday, America. Let Freedom Ring!

Recently a friend of mine gave me a journal as a gift. I gave a lesson in Sunday School not to long ago and part of the lesson taught the importance of writing in a journal. I admitted I felt less than adequate teaching the lesson because I was horrible about journal-writing. The gift from my friend was meant to encourage me to be better. It's nice to have friends who do that. To get me started, she wrote several entries and, I admit, I teared up to see the version of me she believed in. I got to thinking, wouldn't it be nice if we could tell each other more often the good we see in each other? How different would we feel about ourselves to know someone looks at us and sees strength in places we consider our weaknesses?

So, inspired by my journal-giving friend, today and over the next several blog posts, I want to tell you some things about my friends and family that I find incredible. I shall, to protect the innocent, withhold names. They may or may not know who they are, and them or you guessing is not the purpose of this post. The purpose is to help me remember that the Lord has blessed me with amazing people and, hopefully, encourage anyone who reads this blog to realize that what we see in ourselves is not all we are. We can often be our worst critic and can tear ourselves apart because of the bad we see in ourselves. Thankfully, we have people who love us to remind us that we are much more than our own sometimes limited vision.

My journal giving friend is one of the most loving people I know. We have a program in our church called Visiting Teaching, where women in the Ward are asked to go out every month as partners and visit each other in our homes. It's an opportunity for service, communication and sharing the truth of the Gospel. Let me fully come clean here: I am not the best visiting teacher and, quite honestly, when I was assigned my friend as a companion I thought, "Oh, man, we're gonna be going EVERY MONTH." (The tone here was not one of joy.) We've been companions for a while now and she has been a great influence in my life. Watching her with those we visit and how easy she is with them and in tune to their needs has been a wonderful blessing. She knows everyone's names - not just those we visit but the 200 some sisters we have in the ward; that's impressive to me because I struggle all the time to remember people's names when I don't hang around them a lot. Knowing a person's name is a symbol of love to me. I want to be better about that because of her influence. She's leaving me - much sooner than I like; she and her darling family are moving on with their lives, both emotionally and physically. I am so thankful for our time together and what she's taught me. And because of her, every month, I think, "Oh, man, I'm going visiting teaching this month!" (with a tone of joy.)

I have a friend who inspires me every time I'm with her, which isn't as much as I would like (a theme in my life since I'm single and have lots of time on my hands whereas most of my friends are married with children and are much busier than I am). I love this friend because of her outlook on life. There are quite a few...let's call them challenges...demanding her attention and she meets them with a strength that absolutely floors me. I don't know if she realizes the strength she portrays in meeting her daily demands. She probably thinks it's just something she has to do and she does it (swearing like a sailor, but, let's be honest, sometimes a good swear word just hits the spot, ya know?). That in and of itself is strength to me. I look at my challenges and sometimes I want to close the door, draw the blinds, and hide for a day. In my situation where I don't have family to take care of or to demand my time, I can (as long as I have the PTO at work to let me). My friend, though, meets every day with that strength I love so much about her. And with the most gut-aching sense of humor (I laugh a lot around her). Have her tell you about a recent day and its surprises and you'll see what I mean. I'm glad to have her as a friend.

Okay, last one for this blog: I'm naming this person because...well, I kinda have to. She's my mom and how on earth are you supposed to write something about your mother and try to keep her innocence? And trust me, my mother is as far from innocent as one can get. She's guilty of everything I could spend a lifetime writing about...and I love her for every little thing. Trying to narrow down all the wonderfulness about my mother to one thing, though, is difficult. Don't get me wrong: my mother drives me nuts. She is in no way perfect, and she will be the first to admit it. I guess one of the main things I appreciate about Mom is she knows how to have a good time. The group of friends I hang with the most takes the week between Christmas and New Year to play games. All sorts of games. One year, mom visited. Watching her laughing and chatting with my friends and their kids - mostly people she hadn't met before that moment - and how easy she was with them deepened my respect for this woman. She can be a little competitive (okay, all right, she can be A LOT competitive), but even in her competition, she's a grinner (except when Aunt Marcia beats her at Casino - Mom gets a little excited about that). I wish I had her way of just letting things go. Mom thinks that's a failing of some kind, and maybe she's right. But if I could learn to let hurts and losses go like she does and remember life can be fun, I'd be a much better person.

I've bored you enough. BUT! I will post more later because I think it's important we tell people we love what we love about them. For now, a parting line from one of my favorite movies: "It pays to tell the truth, Lord. Thank you. I see that now."

Welcome to the 21st Century

I'm not a newcomer to the 21st century. Truly. I've been watching it approach for many years, embraced a lot of the changes it promised would make my life easier, and have enjoyed many of its benefits.


That said, this is my first blog. Ever. I've Facebooked and Pinterested, never Twittered, searched YouTube and have even posted stories people actually liked. I'm an aspiring author and according to other authors, agents and editors I've been able to interact with, a Blog is absolutely necessary. However, despite their sage advice, I have resisted doing a Blog. Perhaps because it's a commitment. If I start a Blog, that means I have to update it. Regularly. And I might have to be witty, which occurs only rarely and completely by accident. I find if I try to be witty, I often fall flat. 


Despite my fears, though, I'm doing a Blog. It may take me a while to get used to it and my first attempts will probably be bland until I get a feel of exactly what I want to accomplish. Yet, here I am.


What you won't find on this Blog: tales of marriage and raising children. I'm single. At times, I love being single.Especially when my wonderful married friends expound on motherhood, husbands and wifedom in general. I don't have to stay up nights with sick children and clean up their...let's just say "stomach feedback" and let your imagination fill in the rest, which, I find, is a good thing. I am an aunt, however, and a great-aunt, all of which I enjoy tremendously. I won't be above sharing tales at their expense. I am also a sister and a daughter and reserve the right to parade my family shamelessly across this white space known as a post. I am also a friend of some amazing people, so, fair warning, dear friends, I may show you off on occasion.


What you may find on this Blog: reviews of movies (I am a movie-freak and delight in sharing the experiences), favorite recipes (which will be posted with permission, I promise), insights into the life of an aspiring writer, comments on what it's like being a Christian single, and whatever may tickle my fancy at the time.


I hope others will join me on this adventure into yet another aspect of the 21st Century. To quote a wise, anonymous writer with a serious quest complex:


"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming – “WOW – What a Ride!” -Anon.


Here's to the ride.